


Too Much Of This And Not Enough That

by indigorose50



Series: No Shame November Fics [7]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: All the supports Flayn is missing, DLC Spoilers (lite), Family, Friendship, Garreg Mach Catches A Cold, Gen, Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Sickfic, not route specific
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:40:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27691529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indigorose50/pseuds/indigorose50
Summary: A horrible cold has hit student and staff alike at Garreg Mach. It's up to little Flayn to nurse everyone back to health. But it's a lot of work for one person- and when she finally admits to needing help, she gets it from a mysterious source.
Series: No Shame November Fics [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1997986
Comments: 6
Kudos: 29





	Too Much Of This And Not Enough That

**Author's Note:**

> If it looks like No Shame November dropped off it's because I began two fics that both took way longer than I thought to finish. This is the first half of one such fic. Flayn only has supports with guys (and Manuela) I realized? Give her sisters! Give her more friendships! I will give her a hard time here, but also all those things!!!
> 
> Anyone else watch Madeline when they were little? And suddenly remember a scene and have to prowl the web looking for a specific episode from 1990? And rewatch it and get so nostalgic it sparks a whole fic in your head? Just wondering.

“This is unfair and unprecedented.”

“I know, brother.”

“Our…  _ biology _ is different from everyone in the school. How could  _ I  _ catch this accursed cold?!”

Flayn held back a smile as Seteth sneezed three times in rapid succession. “Because you have been working yourself so hard. It was bound to lower your defenses.”

Seteth blew his nose on the handkerchief she offered. “Be that as it may. I do not see how  _ you _ evaded it.”

“Perhaps I am simply made from stronger stuff,” Flayn said cheekily. It earned her a glare, the effect of which was diminished by how flushed his cheeks and nose were. “Just relax here and rest.” She glanced out the window of Seteth’s bedroom, just to double check, before leaning over to kiss his forehead. “You took care of me for so long, father. Allow me to return the favor.”

It was testament to how sick Seteth was that he let the title go without reprimand. In fact, he gave a small grin and said, “It is no favor, dear Flayn. That is simply what parents do.”

She smiled at him once more before crossing to the door. “I will bring you some soup! Do not worry, I already have the cooks preparing some. I myself will not be making it.”

He gave a chuckle that turned into a cough and waved her out. “Take your time. I do think I will rest…” He settled back into his pillows and pulled the covers around himself. His eyes were closed within seconds.

Flayn left quietly. Outside, winter had taken hold of Garreg Mach Monastery. This Ethereal Moon was the harshest one in many years. Snow crunched under Flayn’s boots as made her way out of the staff courtyard. The bedrooms around it were firmly shut against the chill, and each housed a sickly person. A foghorn-like sneeze burst from Hanneman’s room and made Flayn jump. Stifling a laugh, she left through the gate and headed over to the kitchens.

No student had been spared from the cold that had crippled even her father— the dining hall was empty for the first time since Flayn’s arrival to the school. A few cooks and knights were milling about but nothing could make up for the lack of teenagers stuffing their faces between classes. Flayn found she missed the energy; though it was good that everyone was in bed sleeping off this sickness.

There were no classes at present anyway. The professors had been struck down as well. For the past three days, all of Garreg Mach had come to a standstill. About half the Knights of Serios were fit for duty, so the school was still well defended, and the kitchen staff had enough workers to keep going. Cyril proved to be just as hearty as Flayn, for he alone kept the upper floors of the academy clean and tended to Lady Rhea.

Still— Flayn rolled up her sleeves as she saw the sheer amount of soup bowls she had asked the head chef to prepare— she was going to have to really pull her weight around her. Not just for her father, but for everyone.

“Thank you for this, Chef Bo,” Flayn chirped as she loaded the soup onto a cart.

Bo, a broad man with tan skin and long brown hair tied back in a braid, smiled wide. Though not as wide as Flayn was used to seeing. “No trouble at all! You sure you can do this yourself?”

“I’m quite sure! I am used to this by now.” Flayn tilted her head at him. “Perhaps you should lay down. You looked a little… off.”

As she spoke, Bo gripped the edge of the counter a little harder, as if trying to stay upright. “I’ll be just fine, little Miss. You go worry about those kids. Don’t want the tomato soup getting cold on them!”

She wasn’t convinced but there was no time to argue. The soup would indeed not last long in this chill. “At least sit for a few minutes!” She called as she wheeled the cart out. 

Putting Bo’s health from her mind, Flayn wheeled the cart out of the dining hall. She always began with the bottom floor and wound up to the top. One stop at the supply closet for other goods she knew the students would need— and it was time for her to get to work.

The first stop was Professor Byleth’s room.

Who was….not at home.

Flayn sighed as she shut the door. Not a good start. She pulled her coat tighter around her and set off again. 

The next stop was Dedue, who raised an eyebrow when she set the bowl on his bedside table. “I did not make this soup either,” she said with resignation. 

Ever since her disastrous first day caring for everyone, where she had insisted on making a vast amount of stew for lunch, she’d had to reassure a few students a day that the meals she had brought since were not her creation. It stung to have her cooking be so unanimously rejected by her peers. But as long as they ate well, she would say whatever was needed. 

“Lunch time!” Flayn called when she opened the door to Ashe’s room. “I have— oh dear.” She bit back a giggle. Ashe was fast asleep, a book laying open on his stomach and dangerously close to falling to the floor. Flayn set the soup on his desk and picked up the book, sliding a bookmark in place before putting it on the bedside table. Ashe shivered in his sleep, curling up on his side now that the weight of the book was off him. Flayn grabbed a spare blanket from the bottom of her cart and tucked it over him gently. Once he settled, she slipped out again. 

Ignatz, after much starting and stopping, asked her for more handkerchiefs, which she provided before he even finished getting the request out. Raphael was grateful for the food and even  _ more _ grateful that Flayn had remembered to grab him some bread as well. Flayn winced when she heard him speak; the cold had made his voice so hoarse. Even battle cry practice had not worn him out so much. 

A passing knight helped Flayn get the cart down the steps. She thanked him up and down but he merely stuttered out a “not to worry” before jogging away. Flayn sighed; clearly another man Seteth had intimidated.

Linhardt was surprisingly awake when she came by but seemed more interested in debating why she had been spared from getting sick when most others hadn’t. Flayn tried to say as little as possible. With her father also falling victim to this cold, she didn’t think their blood had anything to do with it, but better to not give much away in any case.

Next door, Petra was not just awake but also moving. “Oh, Petra, you should really be in bed!” 

Petra did not stop doing push-ups as she spoke. “It is being too cold to be in bed. I will be warm when my blood is hot! I must be training!”

“If you are cold, I can give you more blankets,” Flayn protested, thunking the bowl down on Petra’s desk and crouching beside the girl. “If you keep this up you will never recover quickly!”

“I am not for sitting around!” Even as Petra said that, Flayn could hear her breathing heavily. Her chest was congested, nearly everyone’s chests were, and the push ups weren’t helping. 

“Petra, please—”

But the point became moot when Petra gasped and let herself fall to the floor. She coughed and struggled to take in a lungful of air. Thinking quickly, Flayn pressed her hands to Petra’s back and summoned her magic. 

As the Heal settled in, Petra relaxed. With great effort, she sat up on her knees. “You have my thanks,” Petra said slowly. Her gaze was downcast, a shameful frown on her face. 

Flayn helped her stand. “Please rest. The soup will help you stay warm, I will give you another blanket, and maybe I could knit you a scarf later?”

“The knitting is not needed. There is much you do already. I could not ask that.”

“If it will keep you in bed, I shall do it happily!” Flayn put on a bright smile, which drew a more subdued one from Petra. After making sure Petra was comfortable, extra blanket and all, Flayn fixed her with a stern look. “Do not leave this bed. Is that understood?”

She had been trying for Seteth’s severe tone but, going from the small chuckle from Petra, it did not work. “I have understanding, Flayn.”

Flayn nodded primly before leaving. 

“I’m sorry, Flayn,” Dorothea began as Flayn shouldered open her door, “but could you get me— oh!”

“I remembered you liked tea in the afternoons.” Flayn passed her the mug before putting the soup beside her. “How does your throat feel?”

“Well I certainly couldn’t sing an aria but I could do justice to a tavern song!” Her tone was bright but she began coughing immediately after. Flayn waited politely while she recovered. “Ugh, in any case, thank you, dear.”

“You’re very welcome,” Flayn said with a little curtsy. 

Dorothea giggled. “Always so proper! Formal, yet kind. You’re like the sweet version of your brother.”

“He can be sweet! He just does not  _ like _ sweets.” Flayn opened the curtains to let some pale noontime light in. The sun was playing hide and seek but any extra heat would help. “And he is very kind.”

“I didn’t mean it that way.” Dorothea cleared her throat. “All I’m saying is whereas he can be a little  _ too _ stiff, you always have a smile. Although…” She hummed as she lay back against her pillow, still-warm mug held secure with both hands. “I  _ have _ seen him smile. He’s quite handsome.”

Flayn put a hand over her mouth to stifle a giggle— but Dorothea must have interpreted the action differently, because she laughed herself and said, “Don’t look so scandalized! It’s a compliment, nothing more.”

“Very well, then. I shall pass the compliment along to my brother!”

“Ah, maybe don’t do that.” Another cough made Flayn excuse herself. While it was so easy to stop for a chat, it was important to remember there were others needing her care.

Even Bernadetta, whose door was locked.

“I-I’m fine! No need to come— a _ chew _ — to come in!”

Her nose sounded absolutely stuffed. Flayn sighed and pulled a plate from the bottom shelf of the cart. “I have soup for you!”

“I-I still have some from last night! I’ll be— ” A sneeze cut her off. 

Flayn put the soup and the plate on the ground beside the door. “I also have cake! It will be outside the door when you are ready.”

There was a thunk from inside the room. “C-Cake? Did you say cake? You’re just kidding, a-aren’t you?!”

Flayn shook her head, remembered Bernadetta couldn’t see that, and then said, “It is no trick or trap. I will be leaving but do not forget your yummy cake!” And she pushed the cart along. 

Annette, in an amusing juxtaposition, opened the door before Flayn could knock. “Did you say you had yummy cake?”

“I do! But you shall have none of it unless you are in bed.”

No sooner had Flayn spoken than Annette jumped into her bed, pulling the covers around her and looking to Flayn with wide, expectant eyes. Were it not for the redness of her nose and the pile of snotty handkerchiefs on the rug, Annette would appear as healthy as always.

Flayn handed over both soup and cake, which Annette seemed intent to devour in the reverse order. There were several advanced magic books on the desk, Flayn noticed, as well as paper with formulas scribbled on it. “Please try to rest, Annette,” Flayn said with a sigh as she put away the quill and ink. 

“I will,” Annette assured unconvincingly. She took a bit of cake even as she gave a wet sniff.

Flayn left her with more handkerchiefs and pushed the cart back onto the grass. The dishes outside Bernadetta’s room had been snatched up already. Flayn smiled.

Now she faced the challenge of getting the cart down the next set of steep steps. No one was around to help, and she stood for a moment frowning in thought. There was nothing for it. With great care, Flayn took off all the soup and other supplies from the cart, placing them safely on the snowy ground. With it empty, she was able to carry the cart down the steps with only mild struggling. It took time to then carry each item back to the cart but at least nothing was spilled along the way. Hopefully she could get someone to help her to the second floor dorms in a bit. Seteth had been helpful in that regard until he grew too sick to assist.

Mercedes was brushing her hair when Flayn entered. She beamed at the sight of the bowl. “Oh! Tomato today! It smells delicious.” 

“I shall pass that along to Chef Bo!” Mercedes lifted the bowl to her face to inhale deeply. “Will you be needing anything else?”

Mercedes bit her lip. “If at all possible, when you come back this evening, could you bring me more string? The sewing helps me relax but I’ve run out.”

“Of course!”

“Don’t worry if you forget! I know how busy you are. I would hate for you to over work yourself.”

“String is a simple request, Mercedes. Worry not. I shall bring it tonight.”

With a warm grin, Mercedes waved Flayn goodbye.

Holding both a soup bowl and a small vial, Flayn opened Lysithea’s door. The youngest student had been hit particularly hard. She was lying on her side, pale hair almost hidden under her blankets, sweat clinging to her forehead mercilessly. Flayn set the soup down and sat beside her. “Lysithea?”

With a whimper, Lysithea picked her head up, foggy eyes opening ever so slightly. Flayn opened the vial and held it to her lips. Even in this state, Lysithea whined and pulled away. “‘m not a child. I c’n do it.” She wormed an arm out of the blanket and took the vial from Flayn. Once she had consumed the medicine, Lysithea dropped the vial to the floor and cuddled up once again. 

Flayn yearned to cast Heal or anything to limit her suffering— but she knew it would only be temporary relief. Best to save it for emergencies. 

Adding another blanket to the bed for good measure, Flayn left, feeling useless. 

Visiting Leonie made her feel infinitely better.

“Your brother is sick too?” Leonie asked, eyes round with disbelief. At Flayn’s nod, Leonie pulled off her blankets. “Then let me help you up the stairs.”

“Oh, I couldn’t possibly ask that of you! You are just as sick as everyone else.” 

“You can’t get up to the second floor alone. Come on, I’ve been lying here for three days! Let me do this one thing.”

Flayn bit her lip, watching as Leonie stood and tugged on her boots. “Well…”

Leonie shrugged on a coat and smirked at Flayn. “I promise I’ll go right back to bed.”

“Mmm…. yes. Alright then.”

Even given her reluctance, Flayn was immensely grateful for Leonie’s help. Together they carried the cart, soup and all, up to the second floor. Flayn walked back down with Leonie to  _ personally _ make sure she got into bed. She even stayed until she’d had at least a spoonful of soup.

Back up the stairs, Flayn cast a low level fire spell on each bowl. Now that she was out of the wind, they should stay hot for the rest of her deliveries. 

Ingrid was reading when Flayn opened the door and brightened considerably when Flayn produced not just soup, but a few bread rolls as well. “You work so hard, Flayn. Is there anything I can do in return? It would be ungrateful of me to just sit here and watch you work.”

Flayn, who was gathering up the used handkerchiefs, said, “All I ask is that you get better!”

Ingrid hummed thoughtfully. “How about, once everything has settled down, I take you to dinner in town? There’s a place that makes great grilled herring.”

The mention of fish reminded Flayn that she had not eaten lunch yet herself. Stuffing the handkerchiefs onto the cart, Flayn nodded enthusiastically. “I would love to join you! But first you must get well.”

There was a skip in Flayn’s step as she moved on to Marianne’s room. Inside, the room was dark— the only sign that it was occupied was the sniffling coming from the bed. “Good afternoon, Marianne,” Flayn whispered softly, unsure if the woman was awake. 

“H-Hello,” came the hushed reply. “You shouldn’t have bothered to come. You will catch this from me, knowing my luck.”

Flayn huffed. “If I have yet to catch it already, I refuse to do so now.” She placed the soup on Marianne’s desk, knowing by now that she would meet protest if she got too close to the other student. “And I would never let someone go hungry if I can prevent it.”

The bed creaked as Marianne rolled over. Her cool brown eyes were lost to the dark but Flayn could see the top of her summer sky hair. It spilled unbound over the pillow. “I see. Then I will not stop you.”

“Is there anything I can get you to make you more comfortable?”

“I’ll be alright. Um. T-thank you.”

Flayn gave a small curtsy and left. As she hefted the cart up the two steps between floor levels, she mused over how best to help Marianne, who seemed to not want help of any kind. Perhaps she could ask Claude, as he was the leader of the Golden Deer; or even Professor Byleth, who always seemed able to get Marianne to come to meals and tea time. 

Similar to Marianne, Hilda was almost entirely obscured by blankets and pillows when Flayn entered. 

“You are a gorgeous, generous, kind-hearted woman, Flayn. And if anyone tells you otherwise I’ll get someone to break their arms.” Hilda sounded as if she was speaking through gravel. As Flayn set some soup and tea on her bedside table, the blankets were lifted to reveal a miserable Hilda. “You work too hard,” Hilda ground out. “Come nap with me.”

“Ah, thank you, Hilda, but I have work to do.”

“But you’ve been working for  _ days _ .” Hilda pouted. “You could use some rest. You look tired.”

Did she? Flayn touched her cheek as if she could physically feel her exhaustion. It was true she had been rising earlier to make sure she had enough time to visit everyone, but it had not worn her down just yet. Besides, napping alongside Hilda was possibly pushing her luck too far. “I assure you I am taking care of myself as well.”

Hilda did not look convinced but a coughing fit overtook her before she could stress the point. 

When Flayn left Hilda’s room, she realized abruptly that she was no longer alone in the hallway. “Hubert! What are you doing?!”

Missing his uniform jacket, shoeless, and leaning heavily on the wall, Hubert looked the very picture of someone about to pass out. Still he glowered at Flayn’s question. “I am checking on Lady Edelgard.”

Flayn wheeled the cart so it blocked Edelgard’s bedroom door. “You needn’t worry. I was just about to visit her with lunch.” 

That didn’t settle the matter for Hubert, going by his glare. Flayn wished, for the dozenth time that week, that she had an ounce of Seteth’s scowl. “I can hear her coughing from my room. Clearly she needs more than food.”

“Food is the best place to start! And I have medicine as well.”

“Still, I—”

Flayn crossed her arms. “You can barely stand up, Hubert. She would not care to see you this way.”

The glare intensified. Flayn, who had fought, killed, and healed in the War of Heroes, was unmoved. She was sure her returning glare was insufficient but she did not intend to relent. Every student needed rest and care, whether they agreed or not.

She was spared having to decide her next move by a voice a few doors down. “Whaz… Ugh, Hubert?  _ Again _ ?”

On a good day, Caspar’s hair stood up in all directions. Currently it was in even more disarray. Caspar rubbed one eye, clearly having been woken by their squabble, and heaved a deep sigh when he spotted his fellow Eagle. “What’s goin’ on now?”

Flayn spoke first. “Hubert is attempting to visit Lady Edelgard.”

Caspar grumbled something and padded towards them. He seemed unaffected by the winter chill seeping in through the frosted windows. “Come on, Hubert, you tried this last night too.”

“I apologized for waking you, didn’t I? This has nothing to do with you. Go back to your room.”

“You did, it does, and no.” Caspar looped an arm around Hubert’s waist from behind and began pulling backward with the ease of someone who had done this before. “Back to bed. I don’t need to find you collapsed out here again.”

“Unhand me!”

“Be careful, Caspar!”

“What on earth is all this yelling about?”

The three turned to find Edelgard herself in her doorway. She was dressed in a long night shirt that covered her arms and went down past her knees. There were bags under her eyes but she stood steady on her feet, letting out a sniff as she surveyed them. 

“Sorry to disturb you,” Flayn said with a small bow. “I was trying to deliver your lunch.”

Edelgard sent her a smile before looking at the boys. “Hubert, you look awful.” Caspar snorted and Hubert elbowed him. “I know you must be worried but I am fairing just as well as anyone else. There is no cause for alarm.”

The words, coupled with the firm tone behind them, seemed to finally set Hubert at ease. “I can see that, Lady Edelgard,” he said, sounding quite abashed. “I am sorry to have disturbed you.”

“It’s alright. Concentrate on yourself for once. Get better for me.” Her soft smile grew sharp as she nodded to Caspar. “Keep an eye on him, will you?”

Caspar cried, “Yes, ma’am!” even as Hubert’s eyes widened in alarm. With that, Caspar all but dragged his housemate past Hubert’s room and into his own. Edelgard chuckled, then let out a wet cough.

“You should get back into bed!” Flayn declared. She shooed Edelgard back inside and moved the cart to follow her. 

Blessedly, Edelgard climbed into bed without complaining. Flayn handed her the medicine vial and took a bowl from the cart as Edelgard swallowed it. In the privacy of her room, Edelgard looked a little less put together than she had just a few moments ago. She dropped the vial to the bed, letting it roll away down the sheets, tipping her head back and taking in shallow breaths. 

Flayn picked up the vial. “Do you need me to get you anything else? I have blankets and tea and a few cakes left.”

Edelgard rubbed her chest and shook her head. “I just… I need rest. Can you make sure Hubert gets another blanket? He gets cold easily but I suspect he won’t tell you.”

“I will be sure to do just that.”

“Thank you, Flayn. This school would fall apart without you.” Tired as she looked, Edelgard still gave Flayn a small smile. A curtsy from Flayn made her giggle, and then Flayn left.

She stopped into Hubert’s room briefly to make the bed, adding the promised blanket, before moving on to Caspar’s room. No arguing came through the door, which Flayn took as a good sign, but she was utterly shocked to find them both asleep.

Hubert, tall as he was, had curled tightly on his side, forehead practically against the wall, and he was snoring through a stuffy nose. Next to him, Caspar was stretched out on his back, one arm thrown above Hubert’s head, drool escaping down the corner of his mouth. Both were lying on top of the covers and Hubert was clutching the pillow to his chest as if there had been an argument about it. 

They hardly looked comfortable but Flayn was content just seeing them resting. She threw a blanket over them both gingerly. Though the soup would be cold by the time they woke up, Flayn placed two bowls on the desk.

Next door, Ferdinand was wrapped up in a blanket on the floor, various library books with illustrations of weapons spread out before him. It didn’t take much to coax him back into bed and he accepted the soup and tea gratefully. When he inquired about all the noise outside before, Flayn happily explained how the issue had been solved. Ferdinand snorted into his lunch when she described Hubert’s current position, triggering a violent round of sneezes.

The cart was much lighter now, Flayn realized, as she dragged it up the pair of steps leading to the final part of the second floor. She wiped sweat from her forehead. Five rooms to go.

Except one room was Lorenz’s.

“Is that you, dear Flayn?” Lorenz said thickly when she opened the door. “Did you remember my tea this time? Not to sound ungrateful but without a nice warm cup I may not last the day.”

“I have it right here, Lorenz. No need to worry.” Flayn first handed him the soup then set his tea on the bedside table. “Rose petal blend, just as you said.”

He wrinkled his red nose. “Ah, yes, well— with the way my sinuses have been, bergamot would have been a better choice.” He waved away her frown. “No need to apologize! You did follow my orders. And it smells divine. Or, I assume it does.” With a clogged sniff, he looked at the bowl in his lap. “What do we have today?”

“Tomato soup.” Flayn folded a handkerchief before placing it beside his tea. “It will do wonders for your throat.”

Lorenz stirred it dubiously. “Hm. I suppose I have no choice. Though, to be frank, tomato is not my favorite.” The sigh that left him then was perhaps a tad dramatic. “Your care has not been flawless but you have been compassionate all the same. Were it not for your age, you would make a lovely candidate for the future Lady Gloucester.”

“Um, thank you?”

“You’re welcome. Tell me, do you have any cakes today? I find myself craving something sweet. It would go well with the tea.” 

Flayn retrieved the last slice of cake, dipped into a small curtsy— much to Lorenz’s delight— and made her escape. Hearing him talk about her as a potential spouse was… uncomfortable. Never mind that he was incorrect about her age; though if that truly was stopping him, she didn’t plan to let on any different. 

Her mood lifted when she opened Claude’s door and found him asleep. At his desk. Once more Flayn found herself holding in laughter. Maps were scattered around the desktop and there was ink on his cheek. As gently as possible, Flayn woke him up. Claude mumbled something that was somewhere between sleepy and stuffy. She managed to rouse him just enough to guide him to bed and tuck the blankets around him. She even wet a rag to wipe off the ink. With the soup waiting for him on his desk, Flayn pushed in his chair, blew out the lone candle, and left. 

Felix was almost belligerent when she came by. “Is there anything you can do to stop the Boar sneezing so much?” He asked with a glare towards his shared wall with Dimitri. “It makes everything shake.”

“I do have medicine for that!” She said cheerfully as she fussed with his blankets. 

He coughed, spilling a little soup as his whole body jostled. Not giving him the chance to refuse, Flayn whipped the blanket off his bed and grabbed a fresh one. “Thanks,” he bit out as she smiled down at him. “And if the Boar gives you any trouble, let me know. He can get so proper about the stupidest things.”

As Felix predicted, Dimitri hesitated to take the vial Flayn offered. “Surely someone else needs it more than I do? I know with Manuela out of commission, we don’t have an endless supply of medication.”

“The medicine only goes to those who need it. And that includes you!” Flayn gave her brightest grin. “I promise no one will suffer because you are attending to your health.”

In the end, she did not need Felix’s help at all. Dimitri accepted the soup and the vial with only a slight frown of worry. She watched him take the medicine before leaving. 

One last dorm room.

Flayn hesitated outside Sylvain’s door. Though he had not acted nefarious these past few days, she still grew nervous when she got to this end of the hall. Stealing herself, Flayn knocked.

“Come in.”

When she opened the door, it was to find Sylvain sitting up with half the blanket off the bed. “I got too warm,” he explained when she glanced at it.

“Too warm? But it is snowing out!”

He smirked and pointed to himself. “Faerghus.”

Unable to hold in a chuckle, she handed him his soup. “Is there anything else I can get you?”

“No, but can you tell me how the others are? His Highness doesn’t sound great.”

Flayn spent a few minutes answering his questions. It wasn’t uncommon for Sylvain to ask this of her. Far from an annoyance, his concern made Flayn reconsider her preconceived notions of his character. 

It was lucky Sylvain was the last on her route for Flayn was able to report on everyone; from Dedue needing reassurance that Flayn had not touched the soup, to persuading Dimitri to take medicine. 

After asking after a few more students, he was satisfied. Sylvain thanked her with a genuine smile and then dug into his lunch.

The cart was lighter than ever as Flayn wheeled it down the hallway. Her intended first patient, Professor Byleth, could only be in one other place.

Down to the ground floor, up two flights of stairs towards the classrooms, passed them inside the reception hall. Flayn parked the cart and threw a single blanket over her shoulder, cast a fire spell on the last few bowls of soup, then selected one to take upstairs.

Captain Jeralt’s office door was ajar when Flayn reached it. She still knocked politely and waited for his familiar withered voice to give her permission. Captain Jeralt smiled warmly as she came in. “Afternoon,” he greeted. He was sitting on the small sofa facing his desk. Fast asleep, their head in his lap, was the Professor. Their breathing was slightly labored but they seemed to be resting peacefully. Captain Jeralt turned the smile to them and gently stroked their hair. “They don’t get sick often. Forgot how clingy the kid could get.”

“I am simply glad to see them sleeping,” Flayn said as she handed Jeralt the bowl. “Every time I stop by, they are wide awake and working. Would you like a blanket?”

“Please.”

Flayn spread the blanket over Byleth but let Captain Jeralt do the tucking in. The Professor barely stirred, just let out a content sigh. 

Captain Jeralt chuckled. “Thank you, Flayn. Wish I could be a bigger help but…”

“You are keeping the Knights from chaos, Captain. You are doing enough already.”

“I heard Seteth got sick as well. You sure you’re okay?”

Flayn put her hands on her hips and tried to stand as tall as possible. “I am  _ very _ sure! Everything is well in hand!”

Another laugh. “Alright. Make sure you get some lunch too, okay?”

Once Flayn promised to do so, she left to deliver the last of the soup to the staff. Manuela, nearly tripping over a pile of clothes to answer the door, thanked her for the tea in between coughing fits. Hanneman held a handkerchief to his nose and was pleased she offered more. 

At long last, Flayn let herself into Seteth’s room. Her father was asleep in the exact same position she had left him in. Sweat stuck grass green hair to his forehead, free from his circlet. One pointed ear poked out. Casting one last fire spell, Flayn set the final bowl on his bedside table. It would be too hot to eat now but once he awoke it should be the perfect temperature. 

She kissed his forehead and left. Hopefully he slept for a long time, now that he had given in to rest.

**Author's Note:**

> (no this fic was not an excuse to write Caspar manhandling Hubert what are you talking about)


End file.
